Whispers in Autumn (6 page)

“What are you doing standing in the middle of the street? Are you crazy? Why aren’t you back at the Gathering?”

The questions come fast, hushed but in an unhappy tone I’ve never heard before except in my own head. For a minute, the struggle to form answers stuns me and I don’t fight as he drags me back with him into the shadows.

This is odd, considering.

Traipsing around someone’s yard when you’re supposed to be at a Gathering is not Acceptable. Nothing about me is Acceptable, though, and I’m tired of pretending to be like everyone else, of doing what I’m supposed to. This boy is the first person, besides the young chemistry Monitor with the quivery smile, who might be different.

I want to find out why.

Standing in the dark between twin houses, my white tennis shoes growing moist from the dewy grass, I fix him with a stare. “You’re supposed to be at the Gathering, too. Why aren’t you?”

He looks as if he’s considering giving me an answer but decides against it. Instead he cocks his head to one side and offers a genuine smile. A deep dimple appears in his right cheek. “What’s your name, nosy? Or should I call you Jasmine?”

I frown, refusing to drop his gaze. He knows my name—we’ve had five days of blocks together. “Only if I can call you Pine.”

Worry flashes across his fair features but he hides it away. The teasing tone sounds forced now. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. Promise.”

His coaxing wins me over and I play along. “Althea.”

He sticks out a hand. It looks soft and warm, but I know from experience it’s not. Then again, most people feel colder than me, especially when I’m worked up.

“Lucas.”

We shake hands like adults, mine trembling from the chill clinging to his. The smile falls from my face as the memory of the fish in the basement storage room barges to the forefront.

His tentative smile turns puzzled. “What is it?”

“That room in the Cell basement has a fish in it. Who could have put it there? Do you think they’re trying to get us all sick?”

Dread bubbles as the images of what could happen dance through my imagination.

His smile returns and he chuckles. I wonder if he has a death wish or something. He’s definitely nuts, wandering out here at night and hiding from the Wardens. Probably Broken, or on the edge of it.

I don’t stop to wonder what it says about me that I’m doing the same thing.

“That’s Fils. He’s mine. And he doesn’t have diseases.”

My mouth falls open so hard it makes my jaw ache. I close it just as roughly, my teeth clacking together. “What do you mean, he’s
yours
?
You’re
keeping a fish in the Cell? Have you gone completely banana balls? Wait, what do you mean his name is Fils? How do you know his name?”

He snorts as if it’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “Because I named him. He can’t talk so I guess he didn’t have a name before. I wanted to call him something.”

“What’s Fils mean? I’ve never heard that word before.”

Lucas shrugs, a light pink blossoming on his pale cheeks. He avoids my eyes as he mumbles an answer. “I don’t know what it means. I hear the word in my dreams sometimes.”

The way he says
dreams
recalls the strange ones that occasionally visit me. More like memories, they don’t come often enough, leaving me wistful and clinging to tendrils as I wake, like Lucas sounds now. The faces of the people in them are blurry, fleeting, but make me feel loved and something more…like how I imagine a real home would feel.

The longing on Lucas’s face makes my heart ache. The instinct to comfort him comes out of nowhere; I have to fist my hands to keep from reaching out. “How did you get a fish, exactly? And how do you know Fils isn’t making you sick?”

“I caught him in a pond. I’ve had him five years and I’m still alive. I’ve touched him, fed him, and cleaned out his bowl. I’m fine.”

“How is that even possible? Who taught you how to take care of him?”

“I just figured it out. It’s not that hard.”

Lucas’s logic rings true but a lifetime of fear isn’t going to disappear because some handsome new boy says it should. “Well, you do what you want. You shouldn’t be keeping it at Cell, though.”

His eyes widen, darting back and forth as he presses a finger to his lips. We draw deeper into the shadows beside the quiet house, my back pressed against his chest. It’s firmer than it looks. My heartbeat quickens when his arm winds around my waist.

Wardens—two this time—tread heavily down the street sweeping flashlights in an arc. I hold my breath, body vibrating as Lucas sucks his in as well. If my heart weren’t pounding from terror it would be struggling with such nearness to a boy—to another human being, really. His peculiar scent mingles with my own odd fragrance, creating a not entirely unpleasant mixture that hovers around us in a cloud. I fervently hope it doesn’t extend to the sidewalk because if the Wardens smell it, they will investigate. The combination is thick and unusual, created by two scents that would never rub against each other in nature.

The Wardens pass, the pool of yellow from their lights falling about ten feet short of our hiding place. They continue down the street but neither of us moves until the street has been silent for at least five minutes. Lucas exhales and lets me loose. I sag against him for a moment before turning. Our eyes meet, full of questions neither of us is willing to answer. Or even ask. He might be wondering if I’m going to report the fish. After the close call, I know I’m rethinking my need to find out more about him. He may already have witnessed too much.

“We’d better get home.” Lucas glances down at his watch. “It’s after nine. The Gathering is over.”

I missed my Gathering. I wish I could care. I don’t care about anything except not getting caught and carted off by the Others. I cared about the Hammonds once. About Val and Monica.

Caring only makes it harder.

Lucas and I head down the sidewalk together. A moment later we come across a group of kids and attach ourselves to the rear. I move in silence, their talk bouncing over me until the word
Gathering
snaps me to attention. A dark-haired boy walks next to Brittany, holding her hand. Greg, probably.

Greg talks too loud. “Did you guys see the new kid tonight?

A short, squat boy answers, laughing. “Yes! It’ll be exciting to have a Barbarus at Cell.”

I hadn’t noticed the new boy at Cell tonight, but apparently everyone else did. My Cellmates laugh, excited about the beginning of our last year. They shoot interested looks toward Lucas and me, and for the first time something besides confusion paints my Cellmates’ faces as they attempt to make sense of my presence. It looks like…curiosity? After a moment, understanding dawns.

They wonder if Lucas and I are courting.

I reach a hand up to touch my cheeks. They’re on fire, burning my palm before I snatch it away. Lucas glances at me, his icy blue eyes lighting with interest as he takes in my face. No doubt it’s an interesting shade, but he’s smart enough not to comment.

The evening is cool and a slight breeze tosses leaves to and fro. Even so, the walk isn’t unpleasant. By the time we reach the Morgans’ street we’re alone again, everyone else having turned off at their respective streets or houses. Uneasiness wraps around me as we slow to a stop in front of his house.

He raises a finger as though he’s going to touch my cheek. I bat it away. This is terrible. I don’t want any part of courting, and people thinking we are will earn too much attention. “Look, I don’t understand why you’re out wandering around or hiding from the Wardens, but I think we should stay away from each other.”

I say it because my mind insists he’s some kind of trouble. What I
want
is the opposite.

He looks down at his feet. “If you change your mind, maybe we could meet in the park during open hour tomorrow. I saw you wandering by yourself near the boundary every day last week.”

My mind races over my afternoons, searching for anything I might have done that would raise suspicion. “You saw me? How?”

“I like to climb trees. You never look up, you know.”

The thought of Lucas watching me stroll about without my knowledge makes me both embarrassed and angry. “I don’t think so. I don’t need any extra attention, and you and your fish and your hiding in the shadows is bound to get one or both of us in trouble.”

“What do you mean, any
extra
attention?”

One evening alone with another person and my secret’s all but painted on my forehead. Running from the Wardens, frowning at him, saying right out loud I don’t want to catch the Wardens’ eyes. I force a smile, cursing my loose lips and ignoring the beads of sweat breaking out on my palms. “Did I say extra? I just meant attention. With the Wardens in town and everything. Good night.”

Lucas grabs my wrist and holds on tight, stopping me from heading to the Morgans’. His fingers tighten and my skin chafes as I try to twist free, his frigid touch relieving the burning panic for a moment. A wild look flashes in his eyes and he leans in until our noses almost touch.

My breath catches as our eyes meet, a shocking anticipation mingling with fear. I push away from him, heart thrashing, but he only leans closer. I freeze, closing my eyes against whatever is coming next.

Words emerge from his pale lips in a whisper, expelling breath frostier than the breeze winding about us. “Think about it, Althea. There’s a good chance one or both of us is going to get into trouble anyway.”

He releases me and walks in a measured pace up his driveway and into the front door of the brick house without a backward glance. The porch light winks off like clockwork as soon as the door clicks shut behind him.

My legs tremble, wobbling at the knees from the fright, from the implied threat. I should move, get to the Morgans’ before I’m late. With the Wardens in town, plus my slipping out of the Gathering early and all but confessing my abnormalities to Lucas, I shouldn’t do anything else to make myself worth watching.

The dark windows of his house proffer no answers. Nothing about him makes sense. Nothing. My inability to read him, his insistence on acting like he doesn’t know he’s not normal frightens me more than anything else.

A minute later I enter the Morgans’ two-story brick house—identical to Lucas’s—and lean back against the closed door. The clock on the wall clicks to nine-fifteen and through the window I see our porch light extinguish, plunging the world into darkness.

CHAPTER 7.

Monday arrives and another day forces me out of bed, into the shower, down for breakfast, and out the front door. Revulsion tumbles through me at the sight of two Wardens posted outside the entrance to the Cell, but I somehow manage to pass by without cringing. The algebra Monitor has fifty-seven squares on his shirt today; they’re larger than last week and red. Everything else is the same except for the Warden who surveys the room from the doorway every ten minutes. Oh, and the Barbarus—Deshi—settles into my first block. None of the kids who disappeared at the Outing are present, and though I never knew their names, the Monitors don’t record any absences.

It’s as if they were never here.

It’s not as if the Wardens taking away the Broken is new; I’ve even seen it a couple of times. But those people were obviously irreparable. An old lady who died next door. A misshapen baby. Not perfectly healthy Terms with simple nosebleeds.

I push the events of the last two days out of my head, deciding to focus on the fact that I survived. In the eatery, a shudder rolls through my body at the memory of the disease-infested fish swimming around downstairs. Lucas’s words blow through my mind like a blast of winter wind. If he told the truth, if he’s had the fish all this time with no ill effects, what could it mean?

It could mean the Others lie to us.

I’ve never considered it until recently, never had a reason to doubt that they act in the best interest of the humans under their rule. But if they lied about fish, they could be lying about
all
the animals. And if they’re not all dangerous, then why build the boundaries?

I stop the train of thought before it charges out of hand. The opinion of one possibly Broken boy isn’t enough proof to send me down that path. Where it might end scares me too much.

Five Wardens police lunch block, not bothering to hide their blatant eavesdropping. I plop down at the same table as last week, where the girls are at least used to my presence if not comfortable with it. Brittany swoons over Greg holding her hand at the Gathering while the rest listen with open-mouthed smiles. I urge my stomach to eat, but it refuses to cooperate.

A hush falls over the table, much like it did at Sunday’s Gathering, but this time when I look up the girls aren’t looking at the invading Wardens. They’re looking at me.

Or rather, behind me.

Spinning around in my seat, knocking my milk carton off the table in the process, my eyes meet Lucas’s as the now-familiar pine scent washes over me. The girls must smell it, too, but no one comments.